


Summoner ==> Discover Something New

by twii2ted_8333335



Series: Homestuck Sexcanons [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Kisses, M/M, Trilling, Vanilla, Xeno, Xenobiology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:30:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twii2ted_8333335/pseuds/twii2ted_8333335
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're a little caught off guard by the discovery but that doesn't stop you from discovering it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summoner ==> Discover Something New

**Author's Note:**

> Huzzah! Another one! And it was on my list for once! Based off of [this](http://homestucksexcanons.tumblr.com/post/69232018268) headcanon~

You're a little caught off guard by the discovery but that doesn't stop you from discovering it. 

Picture this: you spot one Orphaner Dualscar chilling out near the sands of the sea, probably bored out of his mind because it's that awkward state in-between trips on the sea where he has to restock supplies and update statuses, etcetera. He's asleep, catching up on the lack of that you don't think he gets swaying on the waves, and you figure you'll greet him in that way that matesprits do, with a kiss or a couple promising touches to his bare chest. His shirt is pillowing his head and the night is warm enough that you don't feel a need to reprimand him about it. 

You sit carefully on his hips, trying not to put too much pressure on him since he's a bit smaller than you in stature and you don't want to wake him yet, and you start peppering his lips and jaw with feather light kisses. He hums in acknowledgment, sleepy, not quite with you, but content with the actions. You continue along his face, over his earfins, under his chin, until he's a little more conscious and smiling gently. You let your hips sink a little to get comfortable. It's obvious you won't be leaving anytime soon. 

Then your lips brush over his neck gills and you need to sit up because you can not believe you heard a sound like that come from Orphaner Dualscar, scourge of the sea, dominater of more than just the oceans. It was a beautiful sound, a mix of a seadweller's trill and a high, keen of submission. It's just not one you expected to be hearing from the troll who loved to make you call out his name time after time. 

You think it sparks some instinctual want inside of you though because instead of pulling away to see what's going on here, you return to pressing your lips to his gills, even going so far as trailing your tongue along the frilled filters on the edges. His trills get louder the longer you go on, and you think you can hear him purring beneath it all, low and soft and purely happy. You've never heard so many responses come from him before. You feel somewhat selfish wanting to hear more, but it doesn't stop that want. 

You move to the gills on the other side of his neck, lavishing them with the same treatment. His hands grasp onto your shoulders with nails digging in just enough for you to feel them. His trills get even louder, and you shudder in want now. You need to get him back to a hive or somewhere more private than a beach where you can just pail the brains out of him at this point. 

You keep up your actions for a while longer before pulling back, eliciting this pitiful disapproving whine from your matesprit. Your hemopusher tightens but you need to get out of public before you go any further. He tries to protest, tries to get you to keep going, but you make it clear that you both have to be somewhere decent or you'd both regret it later. You don't know a single troll that has ever seen the Orphaner under another, physically or figuratively in a sexual manner. It's a thought that never even crossed your mind. 

When he does finally succumb and you hurriedly travel back to your hive, he does admit to you that he prefers when his partners take control rather than when he does. He just never mentions it as it's almost expected for others to submit to him first. You make a mental note to surprise him more often. Make up for lost time so to speak.

You're back on him as soon as you're inside the hive, lips on his neck, hands trailing along his sides and fluttering over the gills there. You don't think he was anticipating you to move quite so fast — his trill is disjointed and interrupted by gasps. 

Experimentally, you suck on the edge of one gill. Your eyes go wide as Dualscar's hips buck into yours, your name leaving his lips in a lengthy wanton whimper. 

Yeah, you need to get him to a platform _now_. 

You lift him up and practically fly back to the room with your consupiscent platform, back to kissing at his face and lips, and he eagerly returns the gestures when he can. He ends up losing the remainder of his clothes, but you don't have a chance to remove any until he's laying down. You've never hated your wings before but you really dislike them right in this moment because they're slowing the progress of the situation down too much to your liking. You do get a nice view of your matesprit in the meantime though, flushed a deep violet around his gills, on his cheeks and earfins, and various other places. His bulge is unsheathed most of the way, trailing thin strings of material over his stomach. You glance down at his nook, flushed as purple as his cheeks and dripping just as much as his bulge, then look back up at his face when he spreads his leg. He's grinning at you in as much of a teasing way as he can when his eyes are smoldering with lust and his moans are still echoing in your ears. 

Your wings give a small flit when you move on top of him, a combination of nerves and extreme happiness. The idea of being able to please your quadrantmate like this is both exciting you and making you more jumpy. You're somewhat worried you're going to make a mistake, not because you've never had the chance to dominate in a pailing session before but because you don't know what he likes yet. You wonder if he even knows what he likes yet, if this doesn't happen often. 

He trills, a different kind, one that you're expected to respond to, and you do. He's trying to calm you down with the sound and kisses that follow. It works for the most part. The rush of the situation is gone now, but the need and passion is still burning in you. You pull out of the kisses much sooner than you ever would have wanted to. You trail your hands along his sides again, watching him shiver in anticipation, until they rest on his hips. You help shift him until he's got his legs wrapped around your waist, your bulge licking at his nook but not entering yet. You aren't entirely sure how seeing as your control is shot by not and he's rocking his hips up to try and get you to hurry up.

You kiss him as you press in, though it quickly turns sloppy as you both moan into each other's mouths. He grasps at your shoulders again, clinging to you, gasping and keening and you're doing the same because he's tight and cool around your bulge and he feels so absolutely amazing that you think you might burst trying to go any further inside him. You press on until you're fully inside him all the same. He's a panting mess, and you think you are too. 

You press your lips to face again, more feather light kisses that has him trilling between pants. You can tell he's enjoying this, the idea, the fact that it's happening even if you aren't doing much yet. He slowly relaxes under you though you can still feel his pulse against your bulge and his nails against your skin. 

Your vision swims a little when you finally start moving; you're overwhelmed by every motion, every reaction you pull, every bit of pleasure you get. You can't imagine what Dualscar could be feeling at the moment but you know it's nothing bad. You're not hurting him or doing a terrible job and pleasuring him. It gives you a little boost in confidence that has you moving faster, touching him more again. You try to avoid his gills at first, speculating that the combined sensations would have him orgasming before you could even say his name.

So you simply wait until you can't hold on any longer to press your hands along with his sides, your lips along his neck, and God, he gets so tight you almost lose feeling in your bulge but hearing him scream so loudly is worth the risk of never being able to do this again. You follow him into the throes of ecstasy not long after, a groan of your own echoing on the walls of your hive. 

You both stay there for a few moments, panting and lazily kissing once you come back to reality. You idly stroke the tines of his ear, and he runs his fingers through your hair. You can't help but think about how life is just perfect in this moment. 

You trill happily. He responds in turn. 

You both end up falling asleep in a pile rather than a 'coon, still naked but clean now. You regret staying in bed for so long now because you were both too tired to grab a bucket and empty the material out of your seadweller, which can be dangerous for a number of reasons, but he assures you that he's survived worse so he can he can survive a day with material inside him. His only complaint is that it's a little uncomfortable but you adjust in the pile with him until he can doze off. 

You wrap your arms around him, one around his shoulders, the other around his waist, and you can't help but feel content with where you are in this quadrant. 

You smile. "Flush for you."

You think he's asleep when he doesn't respond at first but then you hear a tired little, "Flush fer ya, too," and your smile just gets wider.

**Author's Note:**

> This was like 10x times longer than I intended it to be.
> 
> It was also written mostly during piano class.


End file.
